


The Killjoys: After the Fall

by maddieb123789



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), My Chemical Romance, The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Based off Danger Days, F/F, Friend made me do this, My own spin, Not based around OG killjoys, Please read, killjoys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-03 00:02:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16797412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maddieb123789/pseuds/maddieb123789
Summary: After the fall of the original Killjoys, more sprung from the sand. Inspired by the first Killjoys they rebelled against BL/ind and lived in the desert, enjoying their hectic lives.A girl lives in Batter City. She has only known two colors her whole life: white and black. When she is taking her headphones to be repaired an event happens that sends her life spiraling into a direction she never even considered going.BL/ind is trying to wipe out the Killjoys once and for all. The Killjoys have no idea what's about to happen. This girl is trying to survive, but soon realizes she has to be the one to save all of the desert and its beings.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Tana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tana/gifts), [Alexis](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alexis/gifts).



> This is based off MCR and Danger Days. These are my characters, but it isn't my world. Gerard Way created this world, and I'd love to honor it.
> 
> Acknowledgements  
> Thank you to Tana, her love of Lieutenant Lightning is strong.  
> RIP The Banshee, forever in our hearts.

In a sea of white clothing and headsets stood one girl, silently making her way through the crowds of mindless people. She just came from the slums, in need of a new headset. Her family were too poor to afford enough of the drugs to be mindless zombies, but just enough that the headphones could work their magic. 

When the headphones were broken though, it was dangerous. That’s why if you lived in the slums it was considered a high crime if your headphones were broken for more than three days. If they broke, you had to alert the boss of your work detail, and they’d give you time to get new ones. You’d have to make up the labor you missed, but it was better than being turned into a Draculoid. 

The girl was moving quickly, headphones clutched tightly in her hands. Her white shirt was stained with grease, and her hands smudged with oil. She had been assigned to work at a mechanics shop all days except Sunday, nine to five. She usually worked on broken parts for the monorail systems that lead around Battery City, but on the rare occasion she worked on cars for BL/ind’s hunters of the wasteland. She could work her way around a machine very well, and it made her keep this work detail for six months now. Longer than sixteen-year-olds usually keep their jobs. Teenagers are switched work details a lot, but that’s on purpose. BL/ind wants to see who does what the best, and if they’re valuable they are kept at the job. If a teenager never finds a purpose before they turn eighteen though, then there are plenty of rumors about why they disappear in the middle of the night. 

She had alerted her boss about her headphones, and he had sent her off. The headphone shack was on the other side of the city, and she needed to take the monorail to get there. She bought her ticket, got on, and found a seat on the monorail. She leaned her head back, broken headphones in her greasy hands, looking around. She shivered, noticing she was under a small vent. Her stomach began to stir, and she suddenly felt she was in danger. Maybe she was going through withdrawal? No, she couldn’t be, she only took half the dose she was supposed to (because that was all she could afford). Why did she suddenly feel so much anxiety and dread? 

She let out a breath, and turned her head towards the boarding station. Why hadn’t they gone yet? Did the terminal system shut down again? They had that happen a lot, without the terminal system you couldn’t tell the monorail to lower onto the track and lift the brakes. She looked out the window behind her, and noticed something odd. Two people were talking. One looked like a common Battery City worker, white t-shirt and pants with black tennis shoes as well as casual black hair. He was talking to somebody in a monorail conducting uniform. It was a jet black jacket over a white shirt, with more black pants and spit-shined black boots. It looked normal enough, they may have been family. 

But she noticed something quick.

She noticed little holes, about the size of pinholes, across the commoners nose and ears. It looked like where piercings once were. Piercings are illegal, there isn’t a place in the city to get them. The only people that had piercings were…

The monorail began to move, dropping gently onto the track and beginning to take off. She felt her nerves jumping. Something was wrong. She rose up shakily, the BL/ind guard who stood in the corner of the train car eyeing her suspiciously. His white riot gear was shiny, and she could just see his eyes under the black visor attached to his helmet.

“Ma’am, you need to sit down”, he almost spat. There was an edge to his voice, and it scared her, but not as much as what she finally noticed in the vent above her. 

It looked like bottles of yellow liquid, all connected by wires which led both somewhere else and to a red light, which was off. She looked at the guard, and he must have noticed her scared stare because he walked over and looked up. 

She heard him curse, but didn’t stick around. She began to run. She could hear the blood in her ears only as she slammed into the door of the train car. She pushed it open, and got to the middle of the second car when her world turned white. The skin on the back of her neck seared instantly, burning and blistering as a wave of heat swept her off her feet. Her ears popped, and she felt herself hit the wall of the train car. She was knocked unconscious instantly. 

A mile away, four figures sat atop a skyscraper. It was currently being renovated, going to be turned into a large office building. Each figure wore mask, and each wore different clothing with ray guns on their hips. The one in the center, crouched on the edge of the building, tensed as they saw the explosion. The back train had jumped off the track, a fiery inferno that was dragging the rest of the train off the tracks, forcing it to plummet to the ground fifty feet below it. The scrape of metal echoed off the buildings and traveled across the vast city. The one on the edge of the building turned to their group, pulling the red bandana off their face to reveal their pale lips. 

“We’re too late”.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this far. I promise it gets better.

The first thing that came to my mind was that I couldn’t breath.

My lungs felt scorched, and I tried to suck in air. The oxygen and ash rattled in my chest painfully, my throat letting out a dry whistle. I was scared to open my eyes, I was terrified. I licked my lips, which were chapped. I felt a cut on my upper lip, the blood gently oozing into my mouth. My ribs ached with each agonizing breath, and I was sure I had snapped the bone in my right shin. I struggled to open my eyes, and tried to move my body, finally realizing I was under some part of the train. It was dark, except for the tiniest bit of light that came through. I heard muttering and felt footsteps across the scrap metal that rested on the rubble above me. I was lucky I wasn’t crushed. Out of fear, I let out a pained wail. The metal and concrete under me pressed into my back. I wailed again, my broken voice echoing around the small cavern I was in. I heard grunting, and the metal above began to shift. More light began to shine through as the wall of the train that protected me was nearly lifted. It fell to the side, my broken body open to the world. I felt the sun on my face, making my eyes squint. I noticed four shapes crouched over me. I tried to focus my eyes, but everything seemed so blurry. I felt tears down my cheeks, a whine slipping through my lips.

“Please help me…” I sighed softly, watching them. They turned to each other, and a darkness began to creep into my vision. I felt my body begin to shake out of fear, I’m so scared. I feel my fingers getting cold, something else is wrong with my body. 

One, dressed in all black, begins to crawl down to me. I squirm, wincing in pain. My vision is getting fuzzy.

The last thing I see before falling back unconscious was their red goggles looking down at me, examining me. 

I woke up on a bed, a bright light above me. I licked my lips, my tongue running over a scab. There was an IV in my right wrist, and my eyes began to focus. The room seemed old, and the wood planks moaned and shifted. I could hear the wind outside. I sighed, taking my left arm I gripped the sides of the bed, trying to lift myself up.   
There was a deep, painful ache across my chest that made me hiss. I fell back, feeling across my torso. I was wrapped tightly in some kind of fabric. I tried to wiggle my toes, suddenly noticing the wood splint around my leg. 

My brain feels fuzzy. Where am I? What happened with the train? 

I looked up at the light for some time, my brain swimming. For some reason, I didn’t care about where I was or why I felt bandages across my back and neck. All I wanted was to sleep. 

Sleep is not what I got, instead the door opened, and I heard a muffled voice.

“What?” I asked, looking up with my neck. A person stood in front of me, their short hair a blood red. They were tall and lean, with wide shoulders and long legs. They were wearing a pair of black skinny jeans, and a black jacket. They stared at me, eyes looking up and down. 

“Are you feeling alright?” they asked, blue eyes dark. I shivered out of fear, but then my gaze hardened.

“Hey, where the fuck am I?”

The persons eyebrows raised, and they smirked. “Well, certainly not Heaven that’s for sure. Welcome to the wasteland Newbie”. 

The word ‘wasteland’ woke my emotions up. My brain began to connect the dots.

“I’m in the wasteland? Wait you don’t mean-” my voiced hitched, and my still scorched throat tried to speak at a louder volume than a hoarse inside voice “You are the Anarchist that bombed the train station!”.

The person’s lips dropped into a frown, and their eyes told me they didn’t like being accused of that at all, “False. I am the Anarchist that saved your sorry common ass after failing to disable the bomb”. Their voice was still calm, but it showed annoyance.

“I..I don’t understand. You didn’t bomb the station?”

“Quite the opposite actually”, they said as they plopped herself down on a chair next to my bed. They pulled a combat knife from their belt and began to twirl it around their fingers. “My gang got word that a terrorist attack was going to happen at the West Station. We came too late, and tried to find survivors. We only found you”. When they said you, they pointed the knife blade at me for emphasis.

“BL/ind officials would’ve found me anyway, I would’ve still been in the city” I hissed. 

The person shrugged, running some fingers through their bright red hair. Their fingers were gloved, except for the fingertips, and it was black like the rest of their outfit. “I mean, you’re wrong, but you can think that if you want to”. Their response made me almost jump out of the bed to strangle them, but they continued. “Besides, why would you want to be in the city? I’m genuinely curious”.

“Because that’s my home. Because I was finally starting to make a life for myself and now I’ll never be able to return without being labeled a...a Killjoy and being made into a Draculoid!” I stumbled over the words, feeling myself shake. The Killjoys are ruthless anarchist that care about no one but themselves. The person shrugged.

“Ah, well you’ll learn to like it out here one way or another, assuming you don’t get ghosted”, they winked, standing up. “Well, I’m Cyanide Rush, and I run this gang. You’re at a neutral Bones’ house, where you’ll stay until you’re healed”. 

“Please, speak English” I sputtered, what were they saying? They clapped me on the shoulder and walked out of the door.

About an hour later, someone came in with food. 

She was a medium height, I’d say 5’7”, with sun kissed skin and green eyes that were bright like the ferns in a forest. She had strong looking arms and small shoulders, with a slight hourglass shape to her. 

Holy fuck.

She looked at me, setting down the tray of food on the table next to my bed. Her eyes were curious, but also patronizing.

“Guess you’re with us for now, Angel Food” she almost spat, sitting in the chair Cyanide Rush had just sat in minutes ago. Her voice was laced with an accent I couldn’t place.

She brushed some hair from her face. It was shaved on her left side to the middle of her head, the other side down to the top of her shoulder. The ends were dyed silver.

“Angel Food?” I asked, my voice catching in my throat. She rolled her eyes.

“Angel Food, Dewdropper, Vulture Food”

“Repeating the gibberish isn’t helping me understand”. My response made her eyes narrow more.

“It means someone who’s new to the wasteland, someone who’ll die very easily as of now”. Her voice was a hiss.

“And what, you hate me because of that?” I challenged her. She may be hot but I won’t let her be a douche. 

She shrugged, “I don’t hate you, but I don’t want you to hurt someone because your sorry ass can’t fight”. I felt my stomach boil. Who did she think she was? 

“Maybe you could teach me, you know, since you took me from my home!” 

“You’re welcome, by the way, because if we didn’t you’d would still be under that damn train!” She rose out of her chair, and I nearly jumped. She reminded me of a rattlesnake, ready to strike.

“What do you mean?” I narrow my eyes. I’d still be under the monorail?

She sat back, “I mean that it’s been two days, and yet BL/ind has yet to check for survivors. We were the only people to check it out, and you were the only one we found alive”. That can’t be right, BL/ind had to check for survivors. They wouldn’t let commons just rot in the monorail wreckage. Would they? 

She seemed to read my mind, because she folded her arms across her chest and spoke more. “They haven’t touched the crash site, they are just focused on finding the Killjoys that did it. If everyone in the crash is dead, then they can take their sweet time”.

“But I’m not dead”

“But you would’ve been by the time anyone but us found you”. I looked down at my hands, brows furrowing. Was it true? 

She must have seen my expression, because she explained. “BL/ind still hasn’t looked through the rubble, all they’ve done is send more S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W/s out for us, makes it a real great time getting through the zones” She muttered, taking out a knife that was resting on her hip and twirling it around her fingers. It was about the size of a large steak knife with a leaf shape, and the metal had a nice swirling pattern across it. There was no handle, only a small tang emerging from the blade. She noticed me eyeing it, and smirked. She grabbed the blade of it, and quickly snapped her wrist out beside me. I felt something whiz by my ear and then sink into the wood wall behind me. I turned, noticing the knife sunk halfway into the wood. She walked over to grab it, and showed it to me. “Who knows Angel, maybe you’ll survive long enough to learn how to do that, but I am betting you’ll be dusted within a couple hours of stepping out into the wasteland”. I was still shocked, from the news with BL/ind and the fact she threw a knife by my face, so I didn’t say anything. She began to walk out, her eyes narrowed. Show off. “I’ll be back later Angel, Cy told me to keep you company but it looks like you might need to process this information, call if you need anything”. The edge in her voice was arrogant and sharp. I got the hint, she wasn’t going to jump in to save me if I needed it. I needed to prove myself to her. 

She walked out, and I brought the tray of food over onto my lap and began to eat. I didn’t want to impress her, I just wanted to go home. 

I couldn’t go home though. If I did, I’d be made into a Drac. I also didn’t want to be a Killjoy.

God this is such bullshit. 

For maybe a week, that was it. Cyanide Rush (Cy?) would come in and talk absolute gibberish to me, and the girl (Ringer) would tell me about the wasteland. She didn’t say much, and scoffed at every question like it was something I should already know. Once, I asked if there were more people in her gang than just her, Cy, and the Bones (whose name is Dave). 

Bones means doctor according to them. 

“No, there’s others. Dave is neutral so he isn’t in the gang” she answered, not looking at me.

“How many others?”

“A couple, does it matter?”

That was that conversation. She really pissed me off. She acted so arrogant, like she was better than me simply because she lives in the wasteland. 

One day, while I was picking at my food, Cyanide Rush came in. They wore black goggles that wrapped around their face, the red lenses glinting in the light, and a blood red bandanna that was pulled up to their nose. Their black outfit made them look intimidating.

“Good news Angel! You’re good to go, we got to hurry up and get you to my place!”. They hurried over to my bed, someone else appearing in the doorway behind her. I yelped upon seeing them. 

She was tall, with a gas mask slipped over her face. The gas mask had one part for breathing in the middle of the mask, and two large lenses to see through. The mask was also splashed with paint of all colors. The person under it pulled it up to show me her mouth.

“It’s me Angel! Now be quiet” Ringer hissed, slipping the gas mask back on. 

They called me Angel because it was short for Angel Food. I tried to give them my real name, but they cut me off.

“Names have power, and only those closest to you should know your real name, when you get your Killjoy name you’ll tell that to people” Cyanide Rush told me, their dark blue eyes serious.

“When will I get my Killjoy name?” I asked, my voice hushed. 

“After you do something that shows you’re truly a Killjoy, you’ll hear the ghost of the zones, the Dusted Ones, whisper it to you, giving you their approval”. Whatever that meant, apparently my name would stay as Angel. 

Cyanide Rush helped me up, my leg aching. It was healed, thanks to the Bones having some BL/ind health supplies, but it hurt like a bitch. 

“You need to move it Angel, we need to be out of here in a couple minutes” Cy hissed, pressing their hand between my shoulder blades and pushing. The sweatpants and white shirt clung to my form, the wrap still around my chest because of my bruised ribs. I winced, getting out of the room and finding myself in a hallway. 

“Two Rights Angel, Cy watch six” Ringer called out. I walked quickly down the hallway, hearing the other two following close behind.

“What’s wrong?” I called out, turning right at the end of the wood hallway. I could hear the wind pressing against the building, making the sheet metal ceiling creek. 

“Dave sold us out, apparently he’s not so Neutral” I heard Cy snarl, but the hostility didn’t seem aimed at me. 

I jogged down another small hallway before taking another right and entering a room. 

Splayed on the ground was Dave, his old eyes wide open and his wrinkled fingers wrapped tightly around a white ray gun. The gun was a pistol, with a long barrel and a grey grip. Blood poured from stab wounds in his chest, staining his green t-shirt. I gagged.

“He works for BL/ind Angel, we have no time for you to be shocked over your first body” Ringer snapped, going around me. She hauled me away from his corpse, shaking the shock off me. She then headed to a door in the middle of the clear room, ray gun in one hand and throwing knife in the other. She nodded to Cy, face hidden under the mask, and kicked open the door. 

A shot went off, a loud WOOM accompanying it as the top of the door frame exploded in black fire. I threw myself to the side, cowering in the corner.

“WHOA WHAT THE FUCK SIREN?” I heard Cy shriek, watching them race out the door. Ringer ran over and hauled me up, walking me outside.

The sky was bright blue, dust devils spinning across the nearly white landscape. The ground was flat, with practically no cover. In front of the building was a black car, with a girl crouched behind it. Cy stood in front of the vehicle, looking both pissed and relieved.

“You could’ve killed us! Careful when you fire!” they snapped, their voice muffled slightly. The girl behind the black car stood, her mask covering her eyes. The mask was similar to a woman’s masquerade mask. The design on it was two musical staffs with notes spread out on it, but on one side the notes began to fall and twist demonically. Her jacket was black, with long sleeves. It reminded me of a marching band uniform. She faced Cy, grinning.

“Good to see you too Cy! It's been a week!” she smiled, clapping Cy’s shoulder. Cy looked at her, and I’m guessing they were smiling. 

“How much time do we have?” Cy asked, holding a ray gun. The girl shrugged. 

“A minute? I don’t know, the twins and Lightning tried to distract them but I’m betting they’ll be headed here now. We got to book it”. Cy nodded.

“Everyone in the Banshee! Angel, you’re coming with” 

I went to the passengers side, jumping in the back after Ringer. I buckled my seat belt, the cloth seats warm from the desert sun. 

“Oh yeah Angel, I’m Suicide Siren” says the girl with the music mask. She’s in the front seat, trying to start the vehicle. It sounds like the starter is ready to fail at any second. 

“Nice to meet you” I reply, looking around. 

“What’d you do to Dave? I need a 411 on what happened” Siren asked Cy, pressing on the gas. We burned rubber and took off so quick my stomach jumped into my throat. 

“He sold us out, went to come inside and he was pointing a gun at me. Luckily I’m faster. He has a couple holes in his chest now” Cy almost bragged, but the edge in their voice said they were pissed off and anxious. Siren nodded, her hands gripping the steering wheel. We rode in silence for a couple minutes, the air tense. Siren looked behind us, and swore. 

“We got them on our heels, obviously the others couldn’t shake them for long”. Ringer and I turned, noticing two shapes beginning to gain on us. 

“Oh Shit”. That was all I heard before hell broke loose. The familiar sound of a ray gun went off and white fire struck the back windshield. Ringer’s hands pushed me down and covered my neck, shielding the back of my head from the shower of glass. She immediately sat back up, a gun in hand, and fired back. The sound made my ears pop, and I looked up dazed. Cy had the passenger window rolled down and half their body was out, two guns in their hand as they rapid fired at the danger behind us. I took a quick look out the destroyed back window. Both vehicles were long cars with hoods that sloped forward. They were completely white except for a black smiley face with wide eyes on the hood. It was the same smiley face posted all over the buildings in Battery City. 

“Those are SCARECROWS Angel!” I heard Siren yell, her knuckles white on the steering wheel. She threw back a raygun and it landed in my lap. The gun was inky black with white music notes across it, the handle curved to fit a hand. Ringer grabbed my hands and pressed both around each other, squeezing them around the handle of the gun tightly. She pointed the barrel out the back window, and pointed to a piece of metal raised at the gun’s tip. 

“Those are the sights, whatever that’s on will be shot. Ray guns run off their charger in the back of the gun, so don’t worry about ammo. Aim and fire at the bastards” She hissed, taking her hands off mine. My skin burned where her hands were, and with a shaky breath I aimed the sights to the vehicle in front of me. One BL/ind car was leading the chase, gaining speed quickly. I pointed the gun at the windshield on the driver’s side, held my breath, and fired. The gun produced little to no kick in my hand as it fired, a warmth shooting from the back of the gun outward. I heard that familiar WOOM as a shot of black fire shot from the barrel and hit the window of the car. It exploded, but the glass didn’t crack and the driver barely swerved. I sat confused for maybe a split second when I remembered something important. 

I worked on vehicles like these two in Battery City, since I was a mechanic. They had ALON reinforced ballistic glass windshields, we’d have to have more firepower to make a decent crack in it. The entire vehicle was made to be able to withstand a firefight, so they weren’t the fastest but could take a beating. I turned to Siren.

“We need to go faster! These are armored hunters, I worked on them in Battery City. Can we go faster?” I yelled over the noise. She didn’t take her eyes off the landscape in front of her. I never noticed, but we seemed to be on a road now. The landscape had risen around us about twelve feet, like the road had cut through a hill. It was like the wasteland had caged us on an infinite road, forcing us to fight or outrun. 

“I’d love to go faster Angel”, Siren replied, “But I’m already going seventy, and if I go any faster this car will break-”. She was going to say more, but she got interrupted by a ball of fire that shot off her right mirror and exploded. It destroyed the window next to her arm and I heard her scream. Well, I say “scream” but it was more of a low yell. She cradled her arm to her chest, her other still on the steering wheel. Cy spoke loudly, and Siren just grunted. Cy nodded and both unbuckled. Siren slid to the passenger seat as Cy climbed over her. They moved spots so quickly the vehicle didn’t have time to get off course. The second Cy got in the front seat and buckled up, their foot hit the gas. My throat jumped up once more as we began to speed up. I felt the car around us begin to shake and creak. 

“Angel, where do we fire to do damage?” Cy shrieked, swerving close to the left side of the road. My mind swirled. 

“The tires. The tires aren’t reinforced”. Siren groaned from the front seat, and Cy shook her hard. 

“Don’t you fucking dare go into shock. Your arm is bad but we’ll patch you up back at camp. Stay the fuck awake Siren” them hissed, their voice startling even me. I spun back, gun in hand, and fired again. The two BL/ind vehicles were swerving around the road, making both difficult to shoot. Ringer got the tire of the reinforced vehicle and it swerved left so fast that it began to roll over itself. The sound of metal being destroyed and slammed against the ground grew quieter as the car disappeared from view. The last BL/ind car came into view. It wasn’t as reinforced, but it was a lot of faster. It sped up and slammed into the back of our car. I felt us swerve, and Cy yelled out a slew of curses that is definitely the reason they’re going to hell. 

I heard something, the sound of another engine, when a car jumped over the dirt walls and down onto the road. It slammed into the last BL/ind vehicle and pushed it to the other side of the road. The car swerved and the brakes locked the tires up, when I heard another tire pop. it swerved and slowed, the wheel digging into the dusty road as it fell behind and began to disappear. I heard Cy whoop, and Ringer screamed out what sounded like “Caffeine”. The vehicle that had taken care of our other problem looked like an older model car, the hood square and long. Its wheels had long spikes coming out of it, and the vehicle was a mess of colors, splashed with paint. In messy handwriting on the hood were the words “CAFFEINE MACHINE”. A man leaned out the back passenger window, waving his hands wildly. He wore a dusty black hoodie with a light blue scarf wrapped around his face up to his nose, and black goggles like Cy’s except with yellow lenses. Ringer laughed loudly, turning back around and clapping my shoulder. Surprised by her sudden lightness, I laughed as well, leaning against the seat. The adrenaline began to fade, and I felt the air leave my chest. She took her hand off my shoulder, her smile shifting into a smirk. 

“Well Angel, you survived so far, but there’ll be worse than that”. Her voice was slightly condescending, but I was too high on the fight that I didn’t care. I shrugged, looking at the lenses on her gas masks. 

“Yeah, but I’ll survive those too”. She snorted at my response, but the challenge was already said. I would survive. Maybe I didn’t want to be a Killjoy, but that was my only choice as of now. I would live, and I would prove Ringer wrong.


End file.
